


Anything I Can Do

by ellerkay



Series: Bad Romance [3]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, Mulder is a Simpsons fan, you can pry that headcanon from my cold dead hands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-10
Updated: 2018-08-10
Packaged: 2019-06-24 17:01:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15634932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellerkay/pseuds/ellerkay
Summary: Krycek shows up at Mulder's apartment with beer, like he's just a really good friend.Set after S2E5, "Duane Barry." The third in a series showcasing the times Mulder and Krycek had sex during seasons 1-7, written to fit as closely as possible into the cracks of canon. Each story is fairly self-contained.





	Anything I Can Do

**Author's Note:**

> This story's title is taken from Krycek's line in this episode, when he asks Agent Kazdin, "Is there anything I can do?"

Mulder had only been home for five minutes – just enough time to change into sweats and an undershirt – when there was a knock at his door. He looked through the peephole and then opened the door, suppressing a sigh.

“So, you showing up at my door with alcohol is just your thing now?” he said to Krycek, who was holding a six-pack. Mulder’s favorite brand, actually. Was that a coincidence, or had he told Krycek at some point? He couldn’t remember.

“I have to get in somehow.” Krycek held up the beer with a questioning expression.

“Krycek, we agreed this wasn’t going to happen anymore.”

Krycek held up his free hand defensively. “Look, I just thought that, after the day you had, you might want a little company. And a drink. But I’ll go, if you want to be alone. You can have the beer either way.” He held out the six-pack.

Mulder hesitated. Company actually did sound kind of good, at least for a little while. The day had been so long, and strange, and dark, and he wasn’t sure he was ready to be alone with his thoughts.

“Okay,” he said finally. “Come on in.”

Mulder got a bottle opener from the kitchen, and he and Krycek sat down on the couch.

“You like _The Simpsons_?” Mulder asked.

“Who doesn’t? I don’t think it’s on right now, though.”

Mulder went to his shelf and popped in the VHS that had “Cape Feare,” his favorite episode.

Krycek laughed, looking astonished. “You tape them off TV?”

Mulder grinned. “I don’t like to be dependent on reruns.”

They watched the episode without speaking further, only laughing at the jokes. Krycek’s knee kept knocking up against Mulder’s; he was sitting a little too close, even though there was plenty of room on the couch. Mulder tried to ignore it.

When the episode was over, Krycek put his empty beer bottle down. “Want me to get out of your hair?” he asked. “You probably need some sleep.”

Mulder shook his head. “I’m still too wired.” It was true, although he felt exhausted, too. He wondered if he would manage to sleep at all tonight. “I’m fine if you want to go home, though. Or we could watch another.”

“Or…” Krycek’s hand was on his knee, thumb stroking the inside. “I could help you relax.”

Mulder gave him a look, ignoring the lurch of desire he felt. “Krycek…”

“I know. We’re not supposed to. But you can’t blame me for wanting it. Especially since you were parading around in that Speedo…”

Mulder laughed. “Parading around?! I didn’t invite you to the pool, Alex.”

Krycek grinned. “No. But still. I’m only human. And after that, all I can think about is how much I want to suck you off again.”

Krycek hadn’t moved his hand; and, Mulder realized, it wasn’t as though he had tried to make him. Watching Mulder’s face, Krycek leaned in slowly.

“Alex…” Mulder said, but it sounded like a feeble protest even to him.

“You deserve this,” Krycek said softly. “Extenuating circumstances, after a long day.” He kissed Mulder gently, and Mulder still didn’t try to stop him. It felt too good; the hoppy taste of beer in Alex’s mouth, the heat of his hand through Mulder’s sweatpants, rubbing him to hardness. It was a relief to let go.

So Mulder didn’t say anything when Krycek slid to the ground, kneeling between his legs. He just lifted his hips and kicked his pants off – he hadn’t bothered with underwear – and let Krycek do what he, apparently, wanted to.

Krycek took it slow; not teasing, like the first time, but without urgency. Mulder relaxed by degrees under the steady bob of Krycek’s head, Krycek’s hands sliding over his thighs and stomach. Krycek wasn’t jerking himself off like he had before, but he kept moaning softly, and every time he did, Mulder’s breath would hitch and his hips jerk a little at how good it felt.

Eventually, Krycek was moving his head faster, his hand around the base of Mulder’s shaft working him in time. Mulder wondered if he should be holding Krycek’s head down – Krycek had seemed to like that quite a bit – but Mulder’s eyes were closing and his limbs were heavy and he just let the orgasm overtake him, gasping with pleasure.

“You’re good at that,” Mulder said, when he could speak again. He watched Krycek through half-lidded eyes. Krycek laughed, and Mulder thought there was an edge to it, but he couldn’t be sure.

“Practice makes perfect,” Krycek said, wiping his mouth.

“Thanks,” Mulder said. “And for the beer.” God, he was so tired. His eyes were shutting without his volition.

“Don’t mention it,” Krycek said. Mulder thought Krycek was kind of pushing gently on his shoulder, and he lay down without really thinking about it.

“You want to – ” Mulder yawned hugely halfway through the sentence. “ – um, watch another episode?”

Krycek just laughed again, quietly. Mulder’s eyes were definitely not keen on opening back up again.

“Sleep well, my friend,” he thought he heard Krycek say, but he was already at least half asleep and he wasn’t sure, later, if he had dreamed it.

Mulder woke up hours later, to a silent apartment filled with morning sunshine. There was a blanket over him. He got up to use the bathroom, pulling his sweatpants back on.

Feeling a little hungry, he opened the fridge. The remainder of the six-pack Krycek had brought was sitting on the shelf. There was a Post-It note on it which read, “You earned it.”

Fox smiled. He kinda had, right? Not the beer, but… _Extenuating circumstances_ , he thought, and resolved again that this time would be the last.

**Author's Note:**

> FFS Mulder, at some point you are really going to have to accept that you're not going to stop sleeping with Krycek, because I am certainly not going to stop writing about it.


End file.
